One penknife was
our sole cutlery; but we managed to cut through the skin, and we
devoured the oily stuff like famished hounds, sir. We were ashamed; but,
as the poet truly observes, 'Necessity knows no law,' and we endured the
scurrilous language of the woman when, on the morrow, she found the
bottom of the shovel encrusted with dirt and the top thickly coated with
grease. That fish saved us, sir."
Little by little Devine worked his way towards London, and at length he
appeared in a West-end theatre. His reminiscences of the stars are
impressive, but we need not deal with them; it is enough to say that he
was successful--and in light comedy no less. About this time he began to
have his photograph taken very frequently, and the portraits made me
feel sad. This dull, sodden man was once a handsome fellow, alert, well
poised, brave and cheerful. The profile which I saw in the photographs
somehow made me think of an arrow-head on the upward flight; that, lower
jaw, which is now so flabby and slobbery was once well rounded, and the
weakness was not unpleasantly evident.
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